


Crazy/Classic/Life

by echomoon



Series: WELTERS CHALLENGE 2018 [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Paradise Kiss AU, Trans Female Character, eventual OT3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echomoon/pseuds/echomoon
Summary: Aimless student Quentin Coldwater gets dragged into a new world of fashion and modeling and discovers things about his identity while finding a family.





	Crazy/Classic/Life

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my paradise kiss au! its going to end up very different from the movie/anime/manga, but! im excited about the changes ive made and i hope you are too! this is also my submission for the welters challenge prompt of UNITY!   
> shoutout to wildebones for beta-ing, you were amazing as always

Quentin had long ago mastered the art of reading while walking, but despite the minimal attention needed to navigate the streets as he made his way to the library, he still couldn't focus on his coursebook. It wasn't that he couldn't understand the complicated equations, but that they were just so  _ boring _ . He’d much rather think about Fillory, or Julia, or, less pleasantly, what he was going to do once he finished school. His mother wanted him to go on to a prestigious university, to become a doctor or to get some other high paying job, but frankly, Quentin couldn't bring himself to give a shit. Sure, he was smart, and had the grades, but he really didn't care about any of that - or much of anything. He was aimless.

He stops to stare through the window of a bakery, willing the enticing smells to shake the thoughts out of his head. As he turns away, he sees a strange man, dressed like a mix between a punk and a bohemian, glance as he walks past him, do a double take a few steps later, and turn around, starting to walk backwards.

“Hey, you.” the guy says. His voice is kind of gravely, his tone sharp, like he wants to start a fight.

Quentin ignores him, walks past him.

“You in the uniform!” 

Quentin takes a quick glance around, but he’s the only one in a uniform nearby. Shit. What did this guy want from him? He walks faster, tries to slip into the crowd, but the sidewalk is sparse enough that it doesn’t work; the guy keeps up with him easily.

“Hey!” The guy grabs his wrist, forcing him to a stop. “I need you to come with me.”

“What?!” Quentin says, and breaks out of his grip. He doesn’t even wait for the man to give him a proper answer, he just takes off running.

He looks back a minute later, to see how far away he had gotten, and trips, twisting his ankle as he falls to the ground. He grabs his ankle with a moan.

“Jesus, Penny, what did you do?” says a sultry voice moving towards him, and then small hands are touching him. 

“He just started running!” says the man.

“You were too aggressive!”

“How do you know! You weren’t even there!”

While they bicker, Quentin tries to move away from them and stand back up, despite the pain.

“Um, no, you stay right there,” the woman says to him, then turns back to the man, “and  _ you _ are gonna go back to the studio and dig out the first aid kit.”

“Whatever, Margo.” the man says, but he leaves anyway.

Quentin doesn’t have time to wonder what she’s going to do to him; the next thing he knows he’s being picked up. She arranges him so that she’s bearing his weight, and she starts walking down the way he had just come.

He turns to look at her face and notices two things: first, that she’s stunningly gorgeous, every inch of her immaculately styled; second, that she’s wearing an ornate eyepatch.

“Whoa…” he says, dizzy with pain.

“I know.” she smirks.

* * *

He’s deposited on the couch of a very strangely decorated room. Margo starts barking orders to the others in the room, Penny and another punk-bohemian girl, and then heads into another room. The girl walks up to him with a box in her hands.

“Twisted ankle, right?” she says, kneeling in front of him. “Which leg?”

Quentin blinks at her, dazed. “Um, yes? Left?” 

She starts to examine it, which hurts, and as she does she speaks, gesturing at herself and around the room. “Kady, Penny. Margo just left. You our new model?”

“What?”

“Eliot will be back soon, he had to go pick up the dress.” she continues without stopping for his answer, and eyes his body in a steely way that leaves him a little unnerved. “You’re a little wider than the model its meant for, but it’ll only take a fitting to fix it. We have leftover fabric. Anyway, you’re good to go, just don’t put any pressure on that for a while.”

She gets up and leaves, taking the box with her. Quentin just stares, not really sure what just happened.

He’s left on the couch alone for a few minutes, looking around the room. It’s half fashion studio, with machines and fabric and those half mannequins, and half magic themed bar - literally, there’s a fully stocked bar across the room, that they passed to get in - with strange stage show decorations plastered all over the place. He wants to bolt while no one is paying attention, but isn’t sure how much weight his ankle can take.

The click of high heels across a wood floor catches his attention; he looks up to see the stunning woman, who is apparently Margo, heading towards him, two glasses in hand. She settles onto the couch next to him, crossing her legs with grace, and holds a glass out to him, staring pointedly until he takes it. Her eye stays fixed on him until he drinks. 

“Welcome to the Physical Cottage.” she says, her voice a low purr. “Home to the best fashion troupe at Brakebills.”

“You’re from Brakebills?” he says. That explains their bizarre clothing. And probably their behaviour. What he says next slips out of him without thought, a mimic of everything he had heard about the place: “The freak school?”

“ _ Freak school? _ ” says Penny, from off to the side. He stomps up to the couch, Kady steps behind him. “You wanna say that again, asshole?”

“Oh, calm  _ down _ , Penny, that’s hardly the worst anyone’s said about us.” Margo says. “Now, do you have your kit? And Kady, I need you to measure him so we know how much we need to adjust the dress.”

“Way ahead of you, boss.” Kady smiles, holding up a measuring tape and a clipboard. Penny similarly hold up a large black case, a sour look on his face.

“I’m sorry, why do you need to measure me?” Quentin says suddenly, boldness overtaking his confusion.

“So you can model the dress.” Margo says, sweet and venomous at the same time. “I know you won’t be able to do standing poses with your ankle, but if we put you on the high stool it’ll be fine.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.” he says sharply, a cold shock running through him at the idea. “I never - never agreed to be your, your model!”

“Well aren’t you a little spitfire,” Margo says, leaning back with a smile. “Eliot is going to love you.”

“I said -”

“Oh, I know what you said, honey. But you’ll change your mind.” she looks smug, and it just makes Quentin more desperately angry and confused.

And then the door opens, and in walks the most beautiful man Quentin has ever seen.

He’s wearing a full brocade suit, dressed more like royalty than a student, and the regal looks suits him; he’s absurdly tall, long legged and straight backed, his hair curling over his face, but not masking his dazzling grin.

“Honey, I’m home!” he sings, spinning on his heel. His voice is deep, resonant, and it brings Quentin to a halt. He deposits a large garment bag on a hook, and says, “Oh, who is  _ this _ .”

Margo stands and strides to greet him, depositing a kiss on each cheek. 

“Penny brought you a present, El.” she purrs, resting a hand on his shoulder. Even with heels on he has almost a full head on her.

“Wonderful! You know how I love presents. Did we reward him?” Eliot says, his grin turning sharklike. 

“No, because he terrified the poor thing.” Margo fake pouts. 

“Penny, dearest, come here.”

Penny shuffles over to the two, face still marred with anger. 

Eliot touches his chin with his hand, forcing his head up, and stares him in the eye for a minute, before saying, “You did wonderful. Smooth out your brow or you’ll wrinkle. And shoo.”

Penny grins and moves back to Kady.

“Now, let me see our new  _ model _ .” Eliot says, and moves towards Quentin.

Quentin can feel himself getting redder, confused and angry and stunned. He stands up, fumbling, says, “I need to leave!”, and somehow manages to not only reach the door without falling, but get by without anyone stopping him, or following him.

He does trip on the staircase outside the building, though.

* * *

He spends the rest of the night and part of the next morning in a daze, still angry and confused about the day before. The only bright spot of his day is sitting next to Julia in his afternoon class, so of course that ends up being ruined.

A stream of giggles fill the room, followed by a sudden silence. It’s the silence that makes him look up from his desk, to see Eliot standing in the front of the room, one hand raised as if to signal something - that must be what made the room go quiet. Quentin feels himself go red and raises his book up in front of him as if that will do anything besides hide his face. But after a second he lowers it enough to peek over the top of it. 

Eliot is looking right at him, a smirk on his face. He holds a small card up, and with amusement on his voice, says, “Quentin?  _ Coldwater? _ ”

Quentin moves the book back up, a move ruined when from beside him Julia says, “Over here.”

She’s pointing to him, a small smile on her face.

“Julia, no -” he starts, but its too late; Eliot is already walking towards him. 

The book is plucked from his view to reveal a smiling Eliot, still as dazzlingly handsome as he was when Quentin first set eyes on him. He sets the book on the desk gently, holds an empty palm out in its place. Quentin stares.

Eliot wiggles his fingers impatiently and says, “Come with me.”

For some reason, Quentin takes his hand.


End file.
